Jeff Lowe
JEFF LOWE INTERVIEW

By Jeff Wu
March 2000

Originally, I had registered for Universal Heartbeat because I thought it would be interesting to take a music class (something that I haven’t had since elementary school), because percussion was something that I haven’t been exposed to (I grew up playing mostly stringed instruments), and so that I wouldn’t go stir-crazy from all of the science courses that I’ve been taking. Throughout the run of the semester, though, I’ve discovered many new facets to an instrument that seems to grow more alien to me as I learn more and more of its cultural, spiritual, and therapeutic roles.

When it was time to consider Assignment 2, I decided to probe into the realm of drumming as an art that has the potential to alter human consciousness and induce feelings of euphoria and trance. Specifically, I wanted to investigate the physiological effects that drumming has on the body, "drum journeys," and about how the instrument can alter one’s state of mind, and help achieve a heightened sense of awareness.

So with the aid of Morwen Two Feathers, I contacted a 44 year old Worcester-based drummer by the name of Jeff Lowe. He has been a musician for 30 years playing both electric and acoustic bass, which he studied at Boston’s Berklee College of Music in the mid-seventies. Following Berklee, he spent 12 years in the music business playing jazz, country, swing, blues, gospel, funk, rock, and more.

Having always been rhythmically inclined, Jeff reminds us that he "probably would have been a drummer if my parents had been more supportive of that direction when I was younger." But about 13 years ago, his love for percussion resurfaced when he met Bob Bloom and became a student of hand drumming. Ever since, Jeff has been participating regularly in drum circles, fire circles, and performances. A style he is particularly drawn to is that of the Haitian Voodoo Rhythms, which he has studied under Bonnie Devlin- "a master of this style of drumming."

After establishing contact and several preliminary emails, our exchange began. I was excitedly anticipating a stimulating interaction with such an experienced musician. The interview was conducted entirely via electronic mail and ran from March 6th, 2000 till March 30th of that year. And so it goes . . .

 

From: Jeffrey Wu
Sent: Wednesday, March 08, 2000 9:31 PM
To: Jeff Lowe
Subject: Re: Hello

Hmmm . . . sounds familiar Jeff (may I call you that?). I also grew up on rock bass (and guitar) – would’ve done drums too if only my parents yielded.

I couldn’t help to notice though that the genres of music you’ve studied (jazz, country, swing, blues, gospel, funk, rock, etc.) don’t conventionally incorporate much hand-drumming. What was it that drew you to this style of drumming and drum as opposed to any other? And why is it that you drum?

– Jeff

 

From: Jeff Lowe
To: Jeffrey Wu
Subject: RE: Hello
Date: Thursday, March 9, 2000

Call me Jeff.

As I try to answer your question, I realize that I've never clearly identified what drew me towards drumming. I think that there are a number of attractions. There's something about the drum that connects with a deep place inside me. I especially love the sounds of the Afro-Cuban style of hand drumming, which is mostly played on the conga drums. There's the rich, warm sound of the wood and cow skin. There's the different parts, playing off each other, creating something much bigger.

There are some similarities between my experience as a professional musician and my experience as a drummer. I remember when I first got turned on to the roots of rock music. Blues, the music of New Orleans, R&B. It was the discovery of a deep well of rich musical sounds and archetypes. This greatly influenced me as a musician.

As I started drumming and playing in drum circles, I occasionally experienced a certain depth and quality in the music that I had also occasionally experienced while performing as a bassist. I'm talking about a very specific quality. There is a certain pulse, an intensity. There's the experience of tapping into a deep and powerful undercurrent. As I think about it, I realize that on some level, I am tapping into the African roots of rock 'n' roll. One of the primary sources of the deep well I described earlier is the music and culture of Africa, which reached us via the slave trade, and was transformed through generations.

 

From: Jeffrey Wu
Sent: Thursday, March 09, 2000 10:53 PM
To: Jeff Lowe
Subject: Re: your last reply

That is very interesting. I must say, rock HAS dramatically evolved from its African roots. This perspective is very novel (at least to me) since slavery is usually a very taboo subject as it deals with such a horrible time in the United States. As a result, most people don’t realize all of the positive contributions that the slave trade has made to shape our American society.

You also mentioned that you feel something in the drum circle that you’ve found moving. Is this any different from what happens to you during bass performances?

I am interested to hear more about this intensity that drumming elicits. I’ve read that drumming can physically do all kinds of things to the body and even calm the nerves and elicit euphoria. I’m wondering about what this pulse does to you / what kinds of emotions or moods it induces.

– Jeff

 

From: Jeff Lowe
To: Jeffrey Wu
Subject: RE: your last reply
Date: Tuesday, March 14, 2000

When I first started drumming I would sometimes go to parties where people were drumming. At that time I used to drink beer at parties. One of the first things I noticed was that as soon as I got into a drum circle, I got the instinctive feeling that drinking and drumming didn't mix. Part of it had to do with the spirit of the drum. It was also clear to me that both drinking and drumming altered consciousness but in opposite manners. Drumming focused consciousness.

I had my first big taste of that in another drum circle one day. A few of us were playing a rhythm and hooking up pretty well. All of a sudden I found myself completely at one with the rhythm. There was no Jeff, no personality, no ego. Only the rhythm. After a little while I began to feel scared because there was nothing familiar for my consciousness to hold onto. After all, who are we without our personalities? Most of us don't know, it's uncharted territory.

It occurred to me that maybe this was what being in trance really was. Not being spaced out, as many people imagine, but being incredibly focused in the present moment.

 

From: Jeffrey Wu
Sent: Wednesday, March 15, 2000 10:59 PM
To: Jeff Lowe
Subject: RE: your last reply

Wow. That was quite interesting, powerful, and well-put. The first thing you said about beer vs. drumming reminded me of something that Morwen was telling us about in class discussion: Unlike getting high off of narcotics, drumming is a real way to expand one's consciousness as it heightens awareness (this "focus" that you spoke of) as opposed to beer etc. which make one LESS aware. Man, I hope that someday, I will be able to feel that unity with the rhythm that you spoke of. Everything that I (as well as most people) perceive is through the senses. It would be interesting to taste existence on such a different plane. Could you elaborate on how the trance-experience is unique from what the senses are capable of picking up and exactly how your conscious was affected / changed during the journey? You also mentioned that you became afraid. Hmmm . . . perhaps that is the reason why drumming is done in circles / communally. Does having others around help you to experience or deal with the "drum-trip" differently (that is, if you still participate in drum-trance)? Is there a difference in when you are drumming in a group verses when you do it alone (if you do so)? Maybe that's why so many people freak out on LSD: because by themselves, they can't handle all of the alien extra-sensory input they're receiving.

– Jeff

 

From: Jeff Lowe
To: Jeffrey Wu
Subject: RE: your last reply
Date: Sunday, March 19, 2000

The drumming experience I related, where my personality went on vacation, had a strong emotional component as well as a sensory one. It was also very grounded in the body, as opposed to being up in the head. It was a direct experience in the present moment without much analytical information coming in. There was no real distinction between the sensory, the body and the emotional components, they were all integrated. Part of the power of the experience was of being part of something larger than myself that was very powerful. That experience can be very scary if one is used to or desires the sense of control in a situation. In this case when the fear became too strong, I gently came back into my ordinary personality. There wasn't a freak out element to it. This is generally my experience with drumming.

There were a number of studies done with subjects who were having psychedelic experiences, that showed that the quality of the experience was greatly influenced by the set and setting (what expectations the subject had and what the environment was like). I think freak outs on LSD can be caused by many things: unprocessed emotional material coming to the surface, destructive interpretations of an experience, sensory overload, the list goes on. Having the right environment, maybe someone who serves as a guide, can greatly change the quality of the experience. The intent is to consciously navigate through the unpleasant (even terrifying) experiences. For a great read on this subject, read "Storming Heaven, LSD and the American Dream", by Jay Stevens.

 

From: Jeffrey Wu
Sent: Monday, March 20, 2000
To: Jeff Lowe
Subject: drumming

When you described what happens to you in your drumming as "a direct experience in the present moment without much analytical information coming in," it reminded me a lot of how my cousin once described meditation. And again, like in meditation, there’s this "out of person" theme. What are your thoughts on why rhythm elicits this feeling of loss of self and integration into some kind of a whole?

This might sound really far-fetched, but I wonder if there is a state of reality beyond that of which we exist in. I mean, all living creatures are contained in physical organic vessels. But they are much more than that. Every organism has this energy that pulsates (entrained with a universal rhythm as some may argue) and which distinguishes them from the rocks and the water. Call it a "soul," "spirit," or "life-force," if you will: it is present in the electrical impulses that carry signals from our brains, in the beating of our hearts, etc. With this, I wonder if — beyond the body — there’s some sort of existence in the form of pure energy. So why do you think that people are able to feel a kind of integration and intunement through different focusing activities such as meditation or drumming? Is there a greater significance? Are we tuning into some kind of universal energy well? Or are we tasting a higher form of existence or being drawn to the presence of a higher being (". . . something larger than myself that was very powerful")?

– Jeff Wu
PS: I’ll have to check out that Stevens book.

 

From: Jeff Lowe
To: Jeffrey Wu
Subject: RE: drumming
Date: Sunday, March 26, 2000

Hi Jeff,

Rather than eliciting a loss of self, I think that rhythm can take us deeper into ourselves. In the story I related to you, I experienced a loss of personality, but that's only a small part of the larger Self, although it's the part most of us are familiar with. The integration into the whole is the deeper part our Self.

As far as the reasons why drumming and rhythm have this capacity, there are answers at different levels. A most basic one, as I see it, is that all of creation plays in rhythm. There are different rhythmic cycles, some way too large for us to register, such as the creation and destruction of universes. The Hindus talk about this in their sacred texts. The rhythms of the years and seasons, the lunar and solar cycles, are the larger ones that humans are attuned to. This cyclic nature scales all the way down to the vibrations of atomic particles. The drum and percussion rhythms we play are also cyclic in nature, and just about the right duration to attune us to the larger undercurrents of Life. For another good read, on this topic, get "Drumming at the Edge of Magic" by Mickey Hart and Jay Stevens (who also wrote "Storming Heaven").

The questions you raised about the deeper states of reality are one of life's greatest mysteries and, for some, explorations. Certainly when we drum, we can go deeper into these parts of ourselves.

 

From: Jeffrey Wu
Sent: Sunday, March 26, 2000
To: Jeff Lowe
Subject: RE: drumming

I’ve often pondered about why rhythm has the effect that it does on the human spirit and mind. Your last response was very insightful and spoke volumes of truth. Everything in this universe is grounded in rhythm cycles as you’ve said. WE are, in essence, "rhythm vessels." Our breathing, pulse, brain waves, sleeping, eating, temperature, blood sugar level, etc. all operate within cycles that need to be maintained (I wonder if they entrain?). Perhaps that’s why living organisms such as people and plants respond well to the appropriate pulsation: because cyclic rhythm is an inherent part of our being. Perhaps that’s why rhythm can heal and induce euphoria.

With that having been discussed, I’m now curious as to whether or not you participate in drum journeying or regularly experience trance. If so, does setting, mood, or technique play a role in the experience? How has it affected your living and why do you do it? How has it changed your perspective on the world?

– Jeff

 

From: Jeff Lowe
To: Jeffrey Wu
Subject: RE: drumming
Date: Wednesday, March 29, 2000

Hi Jeff,

I participate in drum circles such as Drum and Dance Saturday in Harvard Square and smaller circles with friends. My practice these days is Vipassana Meditation, which I've been doing every day for about 4 or 5 months. The goal of this meditation is simply to be aware of the present moment. It's a practice of paying attention. There is no special attempt to have any particular type of experience, but sometimes experiences happen. A few days ago I had an experience that reminded me of the drumming experience I related to you. My meditation was pretty deep and at one point my consciousness sort of slipped into another dimension or reality or something. My reaction was to feel fear of this unknown place/self, and I came out of it. I imagine that as I grow into the practice, I'll be able to experience these states more fully. However, as I said, the point is not to have experiences of non-ordinary states, but to train the mind to be present in the moment with whatever is happening, internally or externally.

 

From: Jeffrey Wu
Sent: Thursday, March 30, 2000
To: Jeff Lowe
Subject: RE: drumming

Hello Jeff,

One summer I purchased a book on mediation hoping to acquire a skill that would help me reduce stress as well as live better. I never got it down though. As much as I’ve tried I just can’t seem to meditate. Maybe a book isn’t the way to learn. Or maybe I just need practice. Hmmm, "Vipassana Meditation" you say? Of what origin is that? Did you learn from an instructor?

Anyway, thank you so very much for partaking in this email exchange with me. The transcript is due today and I’ve gotten all that I need and more. I have found our conversation to be fulfilling, educational, and very interesting. Thanks again for your time and help. I hope that someday I might bump into you at Drum and Dance Saturday or at some other event.

– Jeff Wu